


I've Got You Under My Skin

by SamSnak



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, DC Extended Universe
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bruce Wayne is Batman, Bruce is a possessive bastard here, Impact Play, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Possession, Possessive Behavior, Rimming, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-28
Updated: 2019-12-28
Packaged: 2021-02-26 22:26:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21996385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SamSnak/pseuds/SamSnak
Summary: Dick discovers one of Batman’s hidden trackers on him and removes it after they fight. Batman is mad and punishment ensues. PWP.
Relationships: Dick Grayson/Bruce Wayne
Comments: 10
Kudos: 325





	I've Got You Under My Skin

**Author's Note:**

> Content warnings for dom/sub undertones, spanking, and general possessiveness on Bruce's part. Inspired by a Discord conversation about how Batman definitely has location trackers on all of his Robins.

Another smack comes down hard against his ass, and Dick can’t bite back the whimper from escaping, “Batman,” he begs. It’s burning, and it’s starting to really hurt, no longer the teasing hits against the backs of his thighs that turn him on and make him moan louder.

“Quiet,” Batman hisses. The gauntlet is heavy and cool against the burning skin. It’s a small comfort that Dick lets himself relax into for a moment. Batman rubs the burn, massages it into his skin, and Dick has to bite his lip against the moan.

Batman runs a finger tip along the edges of the wound, skimming it over the bandaging, gauze packed into the small defect, “This was a very stupid thing to do,” Dick’s first instinct is to argue. He doesn’t take that kind of scolding lying still, not anymore, but his cock is straining against the cold table he’s bent over, leaking and getting wetter with every touch from the Big Man, and Dick doesn’t want to piss him off even more when he’s about to beg him to let him come. 

“That was there for a reason, Boy,” calling him that—he can never decide if it makes him mad or makes him hot. Dick squirms again, pulling at the restraints around his wrists, “Be still, _Boy,”_ Batman smacks him again. He knows him too well, knows exactly which buttons to push, how to egg him on and _turn him on_ and leave him begging for Batman’s cock—

Like he wants to now. But he knows better, he knows when to keep his mouth shut. He doesn’t need to beg, anyway. Batman wants it just as bad. He’s just as hungry for it. He hits him again and Dick feels his flesh recoil from the impact. 

“Please, Batman—” Fucking against the table doesn’t bring him any relief. He can’t get any friction on his cock and it’s more of a frustrating tease than anything. 

It also earns him more blows to the tops of his thighs, “Be still,” Batman hisses.

"M _y_ Boy,” he growls, low, “I’m trying to keep you safe,” Batman squeezes his ass again— _groping_ him, there’s no better word for it—“Trying to keep you away from everyone who wants a piece of you,” he pats his ass a few times, lighter, and Dick can just imagine him enjoying the ways it moves.

There’s a _click_ from the lube snapping open, and the flesh on his ass is pulled apart for a copious glob of it. It slips over the tight ring of muscle, slides down over his sac and starts to run onto his cock before Batman catches it, grazing the skin on his way back up. 

Batman’s thick finger is inside of him, teasing him, and he can’t help but moan at the texture of the gauntlet against his walls, “Fuck, Batman,”

Another smack, and he should know, by now, “Watch your mouth, Boy.” Batman keeps probing, pressing deeper inside him. It’s all a tease, this is part of the punishment. Batman just fucked him this morning; he’s more than ready for his cock now. He doesn’t need the careful preparation, the tease of another finger pressed inside him, twisting and pulling and making him beg. He wants to push his hips back against it, get Batman to take him faster, but he knows that it wouldn’t work and Batman is already mad enough.

He takes the third finger easily, because of course he does, he’s always so ready for Batman. It’s less of a tease now, his hand is moving faster and it’s closer to the kind of pressure he wants, the kind of fingering that he could come from. They’re almost there, almost to that point where Batman’s own impatience and desire is greater than his desire to tease and punish and drive him mad with need. 

“Batman,” he whispers again. He’s still not allowed, he knows that, but it makes Batman withdraw his fingers. He hears fumbling and clanking of a utility belt. Batman is freeing himself, pulling out his cock, so Dick closes his eyes and imagines the veiny surface, how good it feels in his hand, down his throat.

He’s done teasing, at least, because he pushes into Dick quickly, burying himself to the base and making Dick whine at the pressure, “Yesss.”

“You’re mine, Boy.” Batman grips his hips, “That’s why that tracker was there. Because you’re _mine.”_

Dick whimpers at that. He feels like he should protest, but, “Yes, God, yes.”

“Good Boy. Always so tight for me,” Batman backs out, only to slam back in. It knocks Dick’s breath out in another moan. Batman leans down, his voice low against his ear, “I always want to know where you are.”

Dick just nods, his forehead against the hard surface of the table. He doesn’t have the will to do anything other than agree with Batman and beg him to fuck him. Batman’s occasional groans join the slapping of flesh and Dick’s whining, echoing into the emptiness of the cave.

“You don’t have to wear a tracker,” Batman’s thrusts don’t slow at all, “I could keep you here, all the time. Chained to my bed. All you’d have to worry about is taking my cock.”

“Anything, Batman, please—”

“Anything?” Batman’s hips stutter, and his grip on Dick tightens, “Don’t make promises you can’t keep,”

“Please, I need to come—”

“Wait,” Batman bites his shoulder. Dick leans into it, desperate for anything to push back his own need. It doesn’t help, not enough, and the need’s even worse, more impatient, when Batman shakes against him, groaning and sinking his teeth deeper.

“Such a good boy for me,” he kisses the bite, soothing the mark, breathing over it as he comes down.

Batman pulls out, sliding his body down Dick’s and mouthing a wet trail over his spine. He lifts Dick’s hips, freeing his cock from against the table and pointing it straight down. His ass is still red hot in Batman’s huge hands, and the wet trail of Batman’s tongue does little to ease the heat. He’s so close. He’s so turned on that he’s ready to beg Batman for it, for anything he’s willing to give. 

He’s a tease, but he’s not cruel. Batman licks a long stripe from the tip of his cock to his wet hole. Dick can’t keep himself quiet, “God, _Batman,_ ” he’s grateful that his wrists aren’t free, because otherwise he’d be fucking his own fist and Batman would never give him the permission to come.

It’s _good,_ it’s a _filthy_ feeling, Batman tonguing his own come out of his hole. He licks him, a few long, luxurious slides of tongue against skin, and he finally, mercifully wraps a slick glove around his cock. It’s so sensitive; he nearly screams when Batman squeezes him. He can’t help but to fuck into Batman’s tight grip. It’s still not what he’s supposed to do, but Batman doesn’t stop him. He lets him, gives him just the right amount of pressure, pulls him just right, just in that way that always makes Dick crazy.

He comes. He can hardly get enough air in his lungs to support the moan, he feels so fucked out and used and overstimulated with Batman still tonguing him and his hand still working his cock. He comes, trembling all over, his knees going weak and shaking underneath him.

“Jesus,” he says when he finally can. Batman chuckles once, quiet and low against his skin, and presses a kiss to his hip, his spine, shoulders, the nape of his neck.

“I love you,” Bruce says suddenly. It’s a rare, rare thing to hear out loud from the man, and he almost misses it in his post-orgasm haze. Dick wishes he could crystalize this moment and keep it forever. Batman’s thick thighs against the heat of his ass. His weight, heavy and comforting, on his torso. His breath, deep and starting to slow, against his ear. 

“Love you, too,” it’s hard to get many words out, and it’s hard to get a deep breath under Batman’s weight, but he certainly isn’t complaining.

Removing his tracking device like he did was a pretty stupid move, if he’s being honest with himself, though he’ll never admit that to Batman. The two of them were in the middle of another screaming match, and he just wanted to run, to get as far away from Batman and the Cave and all things Wayne as humanly possible, but he knew he couldn’t with the tracker in his thigh. It also hurt like shit to dig out, because the only sharp enough thing handy was a dinner fork, but that was a little cathartic too, in its own way. 

Bruce cuts the ties on his wrists and lays on the desk next to him, pulling Dick on top of his chest. He pulls his gauntlets off, gently carding his fingers through Dick’s hair.

“I guess I was a little hasty with digging it out like I did,” Dick says between breaths, rubbing his hand over Bruce’s pecs, “You can put it back in if you want,”

“That’s okay,” Bruce kisses his forehead, his lips resting against the skin, “The others are still there, anyway.”


End file.
